


Black Scrawls on Dirty Bathroom Walls

by behindskylines (deanlovessammymorethanpie)



Category: Bandom, Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Blow Jobs, First Kiss, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-08
Updated: 2013-10-08
Packaged: 2017-12-28 21:11:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/996749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deanlovessammymorethanpie/pseuds/behindskylines
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some things take time.  But, as Brendon and Ryan now know, the best things are worth waiting for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Black Scrawls on Dirty Bathroom Walls

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on April 11, 2008 on livejournal under the name himmerethwen (an lj username I used previously).

Brendon couldn’t help but giggle as he slipped the black Sharpie into his back pocket. He surveyed his handiwork, then hustled it out of the bathroom; sure that Spin would notice the missing marker soon. He always did. Especially when the girls were crazy and he was rushed to get away, like tonight.  
-

Autographs and pictures, like usual, with Zack nearby, looking menacing to the adolescent and teenage girls flocked by the table, jostling for the front position, digital cameras armed and at the ready.

-

“Guitar Hero?” Brendon asked, flopping ungracefully onto the couch in the back lounge. Jon was taping away at his sidekick, held up one finger. _Just a sec._ Ryan was occupying the opposite corner of their small couch, knees up with a thick book perched precariously on top. He flipped a page, scratched under his ear. Brendon sighed, foot tapping a staccato beat on the carpeted floor. “Hurry _up_ , Jon. I have my title to defend.”

JWalk smiled, typing.

-

They were in Baltimore that night, tucked away in a small dressing room, deep in the bowels of the old venue. Brendon could hear the crowd growing, could feel their excitement through miles of cement and concrete. Across the room, Spencer was quiet, eyes closed, just holding onto his sticks. Jon was humming along with the song on his iPod, something that sounded like Bon Jovi. Ryan was still in front of the large mirror, painstakingly appraising the black swirls cascading down his left cheek. Brendon bounded over to him, slung an arm around his shoulder, but was extra careful not to touch or mess up his makeup. He didn’t need to be reprimanded by the lyricist again. 14 times was enough, thank you. But that didn’t stop Brendon from waiting until the cap was on the black pencil of kohl before smacking a playful kiss on Ryan’s right cheek, smiling a contagious smile in the mirror. Ryan knew that Brendon wouldn’t let him go until he had smiled back.

-

Morning was really the only time of the day that one could expect Brendon Urie to be subdued or anything remotely like quiet. He was sitting at the table, nursing a fresh Capri Sun when Ryan walked in, heading to the cabinet for some cereal. He ate Spencer’s Apple Jacks out of the box, watching Brendon suck juice out of the metallic silver pouch until Ryan could make out the outline of the straw through the plastic. He munched his cereal, tried to not notice the way Brendon’s cheeks were hallowed out, and _failed_.

-

Ryan needed alone time more than the other guys sometimes, just a few hours by himself, his iPod and his notebook. He was curled on his side, scratching away when the light in his bunk changed. He glanced over his shoulder before scooting closer to the wall. Brendon crawled in, draping an arm across his waist and just breathing, deep and quiet. Brendon knew that this was okay. Sometimes, they spent their alone time together, like this, and that was okay.

-

He felt eyes on him. It wasn’t a new sensation, the realization that someone was staring at him. The sensation had come with playing music, getting the record deal, playing shows, doing interviews, signing autographs, taking pictures, hell, even walking down the street at this point. But this time, it was different. It _was_ new. He glanced around him, and felt a hot flash run up his spine as he smiled. Ryan blushed, and quickly turned away, burying himself in his book once more.

-

It would take two more months of secret stares and quiet cuddling, because best friends could just cuddle, _sure_ , and what Spencer would later call the ‘obvious, stupid signs of stupid, obvious love’, before Ryan would put his notebook away, turn under Brendon’s arm and hold his surprised face between two large, gentle hands. Their first kiss was anything but quiet as months, _years_ of longing finally found an outlet. It was exactly how Brendon had always imagined it would be.

-  
Almost a year after Brendon had wrote his Sharpie scrawl on the bathroom wall, they returned to the venue, to the bathroom, to that stall, Ryan on his knees, tissue paper on the floor to protect the fabric of his costume, his gloved hands touching Brendon. He had always secretly wanted this, to mess up their stage clothes, to smear a swipe of purple and black down Ryan’s cheek, across his neck, careful not to stain anything. Always careful.

When they had both finished and cleaned up, Brendon leaned against the wall, the same one he had giggled at years ago, eons ago. Ryan noticed it next to Brendon’s fisted hair.

Ryan

<3’s

Brendon

They didn’t stop kissing each other until Spencer sent a very scared Jon to break them up and corral them towards the bus. They didn’t mind. They had time.

They had forever.

**Author's Note:**

> As always, thanks for reading! <3


End file.
